


Dinner with a Prince

by Lopithecus



Series: Charmed Prince [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Secret Santa, SuperBat Secret Santa, SuperBat Secret Santa 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 03:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5727445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lopithecus/pseuds/Lopithecus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part Two of the Charmed Prince series. --- Clark makes up for being rude at Bruce's charity party by bringing him out to dinner at a little diner. They both talk (and maybe flirt a little but Clark won't be admitting to that) and then Clark finds out Bruce knows something about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner with a Prince

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MatchaMochi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatchaMochi/gifts).



> This story is for [renaimori](http://renaimori.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. I filled in for their SuperBat Secret Santa. :)
> 
> Prompt: a word prompt “He said you hated sugar and happiness,”
> 
> Part Two in the Charmed Prince series. Part One is _A Charmed Life_ and then Part Three is _Orange Juice_.

Clark is blushing furiously and no matter how hard he tries to stop it, he can’t seem to as he watches Bruce scrutinizing the menu with furrowed brows. Clark clears his throat. “I’m sorry; I know you’re probably not accustomed to such… non-lavish food.”

Bruce peers over the menu. “No, it’s fine.” He looks back at it and Clark can see he’s still reading each item with intense consideration. “It’s nice.”

Clark smiles at him happily and finally feels his blush receding, being replaced with the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. He watches as Bruce looks over the entirety of the menu and then skims it one more time before folding it up and setting it down on the table. Bruce looks at him, catching Clark staring, and smiles warmly. Clark’s blush is immediately returned and he adverts his eyes as more butterflies form in his stomach. “I-I really hope this dinner makes up for my rudeness last night, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce chuckles lowly and Clark has to look at him in order to get the full extent of it. “I’m sure it will, Mr. Kent and please, call me Bruce.”

“Oh… then I guess you can call me Clark,” Clark says, trying to will his blush to finally go away. He wonders what Bruce must be thinking about him turning so red and so often.

The waitress comes along and takes their order, Bruce ordering a grilled chicken salad with low fat Italian dressing and water along with some coffee. Clark on the other hand orders a bacon cheeseburger and a Coke. He’s a little embarrassed with his unhealthy choice but he decides to just take the whole outing in stride once Bruce doesn’t even raise an eyebrow at his choice of food and drink. As they wait, Bruce pulls out his phone, excusing the rudeness, and types something into it. He gets a reply one minute after hitting send and narrows his eyes at it, scowling slightly.

Bruce sighs and slips his phone back into his pocket. “Everything okay?”

Bruce locks eyes with him. “Yes, that was just my butler. He… he wants me to do something that I am highly against doing just yet.”

“Oh…” Their food and drinks arrive and Clark waits until the waitress leaves to continue. “If you don’t want to do it then you shouldn’t.” Clark shrugs and Bruce says nothing, preparing his salad in silence.

Clark watches as the billionaire pours the dressing onto his salad and then mixes it up with his fork. He takes a bite and with bated breath, Clark waits for Bruce’s approval. Feeling eyes on him, Bruce looks up, chews a little more, and then swallows. “What is it?”

“How is it?” Clark motions to the salad and Bruce’s eyes follow.

“It’s good,” he says plainly and continues to eat, sipping at his coffee that Clark notices he kept black. Clark takes a bite of his own food and they sit in silence for awhile until Bruce decides to break it. “Clark, listen, I wasn’t trying to be a jerk back at school.” This catches Clark off guard and he finds himself halting in any activity, including eating, in order to listen closely. “My butler, Alfred, had homeschooled me up until that point after my parents…” There’s a pause and Bruce looks away, playing with his salad absently. “After they died but then, with high school and me not having any friends, he thought it would be good for me to not only go to a school with other kids my age but he also thought it would be good for me to get out of Gotham. I was a miserable teenager hell bent on finding my parents’ killer, Clark, and I’m sorry I took that out on you.”

Clark blinks in shocked astonishment. Swallowing, his mouth suddenly dry, Clark says, “Bruce, it’s okay. Looking back at it now, I was totally overreacting. I didn’t like it there either and so I just hated everyone at that school. I’m not mad at you for that anymore, especially when I had no right to be mad in the first place.”

Bruce doesn’t look at him, eyes downcast and staring at his salad, cheek rested again a fist as he continues to push the salad leaves around his plate. “I guess we were just a couple of dumb teenagers who took our frustration out on each other.”

Clark smiles warmly. “I guess so.” Bruce looks up through his long eyelashes and Clark can just barely see the hint of color on his cheeks. Clark laughs and this causes Bruce to smile and chuckle a little. “We better finish up.”

They continue eating until they are done and Clark goes up to the counter to pay for their food despite Bruce insisting that he pay. Clark tells him he already said he would pay when Clark asked him to dinner and this causes Bruce to relent. Clark goes back to the table and sits down across from Bruce when the man looks deep in thought. However, as soon as he is sat, Bruce’s eyes lock with his. “Clark, I have something I need to discuss with you.”

Clark squirms in his seat, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. “W-What is it?”

Bruce stares at him for at least two minutes before he begins to talk. “I know who you are.”

At this, Clark immediately stiffens, his whole body going on full alert. “What are talking about?”

Bruce leans closer and whispers. “I know you’re Superman.” He stares at Bruce in stunned silence. “Clark?”

There’s a snap in front of his eyes and he realizes that Bruce snapped his fingers to get his attention. “How… how do you know that?”

Bruce shrugs. “It wasn’t that hard. As soon as I left the charity event I looked up the journalist Clark Kent. From there it wasn’t hard to follow the trail back to the Kent farm and then to the forged birth certificate.”

Clark gapes at him. “How’d you know they were faked?”

“That’s another easy thing to do, especially with all the technology at my disposal,” he says.

“But that still doesn’t explain why you think I’m Superman,” Clark says in response.

Bruce shrugs again, looking away from Clark’s exasperated face. “Well, it did help that I’ve met Superman a few times.”

Clark rakes his brain for any knowledge or memory of ever meeting Bruce Wayne as Superman and comes up empty handed when it suddenly hits him. “You’re… you’re… you’re Batman?” Bruce nods in order to confirm his deduction. “But… You… You can’t be.” Clark reaches out and places a hand over Bruce’s eyes and nose, Bruce recoiling slightly.

He can feel Bruce’s eyelashes brush against his palm as the man blinks in confusion and he can feel Bruce’s brows furrowing. “Clark?”

“Oh my gosh you are him.” Clark pulls his hand back and one of Bruce’s eyebrows raises. “Wait, if you knew I was Superman then how come you didn’t tell me in your office?”

“I was reluctant too.” Bruce taps his phone that Clark now just realizes is on the table. He must have taken it out when Clark went to pay for their meal.

“So that’s what your butler, Alfred you said his name is, wanted you to do?” Bruce nods. “But you didn’t want to say anything so why did you?”

Bruce shrugs and looks to the table. “I changed my mind.”

There’s a slight blush on Bruce’s cheeks and it makes Clark smile. When Bruce looks up with his eyes and sees Clark smiling, he too grins a tiny bit. “Well I’m glad you did.” Clark chuckles lightly. “It’s weird though, seeing you smile.” Bruce looks up with a questioning look. “Batman doesn’t smile or laugh. In fact, my boss says Batman hates sugar and happiness.”

Amusement shines from Bruce. “Sugar?”

“Well you did just drink your coffee black,” Clark teases.

Bruce huffs but there’s still a smile playing at his lips. He looks to the window which allows the light from the street lamps to shine fully on his face. Clark watches him; Clark’s own smile slowly falling as realization hits him like a ton of bricks. Bruce is beautiful. He loves seeing the man smile no matter how small it is and he loves Bruce’s laugh even with how little he’s heard it. Butterflies form in Clark’s stomach again and he begins to get nervous. Clark wants to continue to get to know Bruce and maybe even get to know him beyond just friends. He’s starting to fall for him and that terrifies Clark.

Bruce looks back to him, smile gone as well. “What’s wrong?”

Clark clears his throat. “Nothing.” He clears his throat again. “Hey, Bruce, how much of what my boss says about Batman is true? You know the hating sugar and happiness thing.”

Bruce doesn’t answer right away, observing him with a neutral face. “Well it’s true that I drink my coffee black but I do like some sweet stuff and so does Batman.” Clark takes note of the third person usage but doesn’t comment on it. “As for happiness… that’s a little trickier. _I_ like happiness but Batman…” He pauses and a look of distress crosses his face briefly before he turns it back to neutral. “I’m not sure about Batman.”

“Well, I guess you have to answer the question of whether or not you’re happy when you’re Batman,” Clark prompts.

Bruce looks away and out the window again, his face more solemn than before. “I don’t know,” he says quietly and Clark frowns. “I don’t get a lot of happiness Clark, as Batman or Bruce Wayne.”

Clark frowns some more and thinks. This isn’t right. Clark wants to see Bruce happy again and he wants him to continue to be happy. “Maybe I can change that.” Bruce turns to him, questioning. “Maybe we can be friends,” he says with a smile.

“Comrades,” Bruce interjects.

“Teammates,” Clark counters.

Bruce rolls his eyes and huffs but the small smile does return. “Fine teammates.”

Clark smiles wide. “Good, then we’re friends.”

“Clark,” Bruce groans, running a hand down his face.

“What? You can’t be teammates without being friends.” He holds up a finger when Bruce opens his mouth to say something. “And you can’t take it back either.”

Bruce groans again. “ _Fine._ ”

Clark chuckles. “Good.”

Bruce shakes his head and chuckles as well. When calm, he asks, “Are you going back to Metropolis tonight?” Clark nods reluctantly. Bruce sighs in a half content and half disappointed way. “We better get going then, it’s getting late and I still have to go on patrol.”

“Do you need help?” Clark asks hopefully because screw going back to Metropolis if it means staying with Bruce a little longer.

Bruce hesitates and Clark is almost afraid he’s going to say no when Bruce answers. “Sure, Clark, you can help.”

Bruce gets up from his seat quickly, the darkest blush Clark has seen so far on the man’s face. He even looks irritated with himself because of the blush and it makes Clark laugh. Still laughing, Clark dares to put an arm around Bruce’s shoulders who immediately begins to glare at him. It only causes Clark to smile wider and laugh louder, loving the whole thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
